Still running - Part two.

I also was very depressed during the first few years of running (and this is still something I work through). So I was okay with dying but I come from a close family so I never wanted to commit suicide.

So I just decided to just live a life on the edge, teetering up to the void and trying to see how close I could get to it. I put myself in the most dangerous places in the world that I could. All so I could prove to myself a foolish point - That life was not worth living.

But it didn’t work.

No matter where I put myself, people felt my vulnerability and always treated me with kindness.

And that is NOT an exaggeration. Hundreds and hundreds of thousands of miles. 35+ countries. 25 of them being 3rd world countries.

I never had plans. I never knew what I was doing.

I learned during all of this that vulnerability and authenticity was the single greatest connector there was. And that it does not convey weakness - It actually conveys strength.

But if there’s any summation to everything I have learned - It’s that people really are good. I have been relentlessly observant, vividly aware of how people really are. These days, I am still running. In my lightest travel year so far, I have spent 5 months moving. But my heart is full of love and a desire to not feel alone anymore. So I pour my heart into the world so that others can feel less alone also.

But I am still learning how to let people be close to me. And not feel so scared when they are. I haven’t figured it out yet but this is definitely me trying.

This is the first time I’ve let the world in on my travels and what this mess can entail. If I had it my way, I would never show anything from it and happily run for the rest of my days. But I’ve learned that happiness is ONLY real when it’s shared - And I just hope that my story, and how I’ve made it this far, might shine a little light on those who are feeling the same thing.

We’re all in it together.

A long time ago, I started running. And I haven't stopped yet.

In complete chaos, with on direction, heartbroken and shattered - I started to run. I was a wounded animal and I didn’t know how to talk to anyone about what I was going through. I was terrified.

That’s why I didn’t want a phone and still resist them. I don’t want anyone to be able to find me because my trust in humanity at that time was shattered. I was shot with an arrow in the heart but it didn’t kill me. And these last 10 years have been me running into the woods with a blood trail always behind me.

I ran for so long on my own. As long as I could. But then, I ran out of money so I needed help. It was the hardest thing I had ever done at that time but I asked… And help was always given to me. I was shown that the world might not be so dangerous - But I still wasn’t sure.

That is why my entire life has been about showing the beauty of the world. Because I was really doing it for me. To me.

To show myself that the world is okay.

But then, I lost my best friend to an overdose. And I had allowed myself to trust a relationship again… But it fell apart. I was too scared to let it flourish. I didn’t know how to tell the truth. One part of me was too scared to let her in close enough to hurt me but, once she was, I was too scared to be alone again.

We fell apart. So I ran again.

Along these many years of running, I became an observer to the world. I still didn’t want a phone so I couldn’t be found so I had endless time to explore and just watch the world. I was just trying to make a better decision on if I should trust the world. I was waiting tables at restaurants, working on farms, anything to scrap together a few more dollars to allow myself to keep running.

These creative trips to scrounge for my inspiration.

A lot of these creative trips end up turning into beautiful rejuvenations of my individual creativity.

A new world, allowing me to navigate it as the main character, brings me to a new level of peace. A cold spot in the flames. They end up being the perfect mix of solitude, aesthetic experiences, conversations and life outside of the comfort.

I’ve dipped my toes gently back into reality but just for the mandatory minimum. Otherwise, I’ve just been sitting in my imagination, letting it burn as bright as it would like to.

These days I have too much.

These days, I feel like I am selfish. I hold onto all of my energy. I waste too much of it. And now, I just sit by with my tank on full.

I need it to write. I really do. And I’ve written more than I have in 10 years with this emotional clarity. But I don’t think I’m giving enough back to the world. I’m creating too little. I am manufacturing too much. I’m foolishly acting like life will last forever.

Like it’s a single player video game with unlimited lives. And no punishments - Only rewards.

Nothing is more important now than for me to delay gratification, at a time when I don’t need to at all. Because, If I can’t, I will have none of it saved up for the future. None of it for the time I’ll wish I had it. I’ll die young if I don’t.

And I don’t want to die young. But I’m scared quite a bit. Scared what life will be like if I don’t find love. Scared what life would be like if my parents wern’t around. What happens if I get old. If my dreams don’t come true. If things fall short of my expectations.

What this beautiful journey has led me into realizing.

At last.

Reality and imagination are the exact same. There is no difference. No need of trying to keep them different. Reality couldn’t have more colors if you tried. Your imagination doesn’t hold a candle to what’s already right in front of your face. 

I sit in this beautiful cabin, looking at the red wood trees, and I’m reminded so many times during this:

You do not have to keep seeking.

You always will. But you do not need to go to the ends of the earth to look for it.

You have it within you.

It’s all around you. It’s burning on every wing you soar through the sky with. It’s there. It’s always been there.

And you know that. 

I will give away the greatest secret of all.

I hope to inspire everyone to do what I am doing. To connect with the world. To interact with it. To learn from it.

So I will share with you the greatest secret of all.

The ability to communicate is nothing but an acquired skill. The ability to relate, communicate, listen and share are all just acquired skills.

So how do you acquire a skill? How do you refine a skill and get better at it?

YOU PRACTICE.

You practice as much as you fucking can.

Like every skill there is, you will make countless mistakes as you practice. You’ll mess up conversations sometimes. You’ll get scared and give up sometimes. You’ll get rejected sometimes. People won’t understand you sometimes.

All of that is perfectly fine. How many startups are out there that the founders didn’t fail miserably for a LONG time before they found success? How many startups are successful today ONLY because they persisted in the face of mistakes. And more than that, they learned from those mistakes and sharpened their skills, moving forward more concisely and clearly while doing so.

Now, here’s an even better part about this practice. You’re not practicing how to be a presentation. You’re not learning a script or how to ‘sell’ to people or anything like that. It’s strange but, you actually have to practice being yourself in conversation a lot. Speaking from a genuine nature that is crucial towards gaining trust in relationships. You have to learn how to be fearless in expressing truthfully and, the first times you do this, it might not go so well. This is the part where many people might not understand you. You might feel you said too much. Asked too much. All of that. But, in time, with lots of practice, you continue figuring out how to just be yourself as much as possible. To be present in those conversations and genuinely listen and learn from them.

If you have your phone in your face, ignoring the world around you, you are not practicing. You are actually regressing because there are people around you practicing and they are continuing to move forward. And the world is always moving forward, with or without you. There is no standing still. You’re either moving forward or falling backwards.

There is no stasis.

To learn how to communicate, in person, these days is one of the SINGLE MOST POWERFUL TOOLS you can possibly have. You can be yourself so you can share your heart with others. You can ask for help when you need it and you can give it when it’s asked of you. You can negotiate and not give up something that makes you bitter or resentful. You can be way smarter, way more intuitive and way more aware of what’s actually happening in the world around you.

SO PRACTICE.

Practice every single day. A great way to practice is to go to restaurants or sit at a bar with a beer. Leave your phone at home and strike up genuine conversations with the waiter. The bartender. The person next to you. You have absolutely NOTHING to lose in these situations and learning how to create a genuine conversation takes real world experience many times and here, you’ll have no limit to how much you can practice.

If you can communicate, the world bends in your favor and everything falls into place. But most importantly of all, you get to surround yourself with relationships that genuinely know who you are and what you need, because you were able to communicate it. And they will be vulnerable with you and do the same also.

Go practice.

A story I had to tell.

I wasn't going to write this story but, when I stepped back and thought about it, I think it's important to. If for nothing else but as a plea for all of you to please pay attention to the world around you.

-

I have been in Big Sur this last week, wonderfully unplugged and writing my heart out. More to come from that but, it's been one of the best creative weeks of my life.

Yesterday, as I was leaving Big Sur and headed back to the real world, I stopped at Bixby Bridge one last time to enjoy the view and reflect. I walked out to the middle of the bridge where there is a small inlet and bench that you can sit on (I have never seen anyone sit here though it's the best spot in my opinion) and sat there for a little bit, just enjoying the view.

After a while, it was time to go and I started to walk back across the bridge. Now, the bridge is sketchy to walk on - There's no shoulder (and 300-foot drop on both sides) and you have to wait for a break in traffic - So, as mentioned, I have never seen anyone else do it. But as I walked back, I noticed a girl about 1/3 of the way across the bridge walking towards me. When she saw me, she stopped, stood there for a second and walked back.

As I continued walking to the end of the bridge, I noticed her sitting right at the edge. I got closer and noticed she had no phone out, was all by herself and she was just staring off in the distance with a lifeless look in her eye. It looked like she had been crying a lot.

I got closer and was going to say something then but, for whatever reason, decided to put my things in my car first and come back. I quickly did that and drove my car to the parking lot and walked back to where she was.

As I got about 50 feet away, she stood up and started walking out on the bridge again. I ran faster and, when I got closer, she was already back out on the bridge, walking out to the middle.

I yelled 'Ma'am! Miss. Miss. Excuse me!' As I got closer. I was yelling over the sound of traffic and a million voices.

She stopped, in the middle of the street, on the bridge, and looked at me. Just stared at me with the same lifeless look, dried tears all around her eyes.

I said 'Hey... Are you okay? I noticed you on my walk back and you looked like you were going through some stuff. Can we sit for a moment and talk?'

Right then, in the middle of the highway, she exploded into tears. Sobbing in silence and just staring at me. But she wasn't moving. I sat on the ledge at the beginning of the bridge and said 'Can you sit with me for a minute? I don't want anything at all - Just to listen. Come off the bridge and sit with me.'

She finally did and very slowly, walked off the bridge. She just sat there with tears falling down her face, in complete silence. She sat down now and I sat a few feet away, wanting to give her space but also be close enough that she didn't feel alone.

(Now, a lot of people ask me 'How do you know how to talk to people?' And here's a great example of when I literally have no clue what to say. But I know VERY well she needs someone to just be there. I asked a few questions and she just nodded yes or no. But I also left lots of time for just silence. I wanted to sit close to her but I was definitely not trying to flood her with questions. I did want to get her mind off of what war she had been struggling with but, above everything else, I just wanted her to feel comfortable.)

I finally asked her if she just went through a breakup and she gentled nodded and then looked at me and said 'It's not just the breakup though. It's everything, all at once.'

I said 'Man, I know that feeling all too well. The soul crushing feeling of a breakup, especially when you're younger. There's nothing else like it - It feels like the whole whole world is ending.'

I asked her where her family was. She said she doesn't know how to talk to her parents about things like this. Her brother and sisters are older and living their own lives. I asked if she had a best friend and she said 'Yes, but we don't talk about things like this because she's always too busy. She's always too busy to talk to.'

Very slowly, she opened up more and more, still sobbing. She was just 20-years old. In school to be a teacher where she wanted to work with children (in preschool) because she loves kids.

About a month ago, she had found out her boyfriend was cheating on her and, when she confronted him, he broke up with her. Still though, she thought she was pregnant and was holding on to hope that she was because she just wanted a baby. Someone to have. Someone to love.

But today, she got her pregnancy test back and found out she's not.

She called her ex-boyfriend to tell him and said 'He was so relieved and so happy.' But she was devastated.

There's no words to say to someone going through that.

She was just crying and crying. I sat close to her and let her cry. I told her how healthy it is to cry, to process and to take as much time as you need to do so.

Finally, I said 'I know that feeling. I have sat exactly where you are sitting now, questioning life. Questioning how it could ever be better. In fact, the reason I am in Big Sur is because years ago, I came here with someone I loved very much. She cheated on me, broke up with me and left me all alone. I remember when that happened, I didn't have a single person I felt I could talk to. I didn't want to feel like a burden. So I figured it was over. I got so close to giving it all up but for some reason I'll never understand, I decided to give it one more chance. To try as hard as I could to find purpose and a reason to keep going. And today, I am beyond grateful to be here and to share my heart with others. These struggles end up becoming your medal of honor and, when you see all those children you impact as a teacher, I promise you, you will always know it was worth it. Today, you're my purpose for why I continued.'

We sat there for an hour. More than half of that time was in silence, just letting her cry. I wasn't going to go anywhere, as long as she was sitting there. Finally, I got her a book and wrote her a long note, thanking her for inspiring me to be more vulnerable. To show more emotion. To open up my heart to strangers and give them a chance to be there for me.

And then I wrote down my email address and phone number. I said 'I don't care if you email me. Text me. Call me. Facetime. I could care less. But please promise me you will and you'll let me know you're okay. You always have someone to talk to now. You're never alone, I promise.'

She pinky swore and then we had a long hug before saying goodbye. I sat and watched her walk to her car this time and finally drive away.

-

I write this post for ONLY ONE REASON.

While this girl was sitting there on that ledge, just minutes before walking out on that bridge, there were literally HUNDREDS of people all around her. Every single person was on their phone, taking selfies, recording videos and then walking away. Not one single person noticed her and if they did, not one of them just asked if she was okay.

That's all I did. I just asked if she was okay. I didn't have the perfect words to say. I didn't know what to say. But just saying SOMETHING was enough to possibly save her life, in that one single moment.

I beg you all to please pay attention. Take your selfies and pictures but after you do, please look around. Enjoy the view. Take in the surroundings. Notice people. Say hello to people. You don't have to have a long conversation, tell a story or anything at all. 95% of the time, I just smile, say hello and keep going. But if I didn't notice this girl, I don't know what would have happened.

I am only one person. There are so many people out there struggling that don't have anyone to talk to. You don't have to give up your whole day. Just give up a moment.

Just be human with me. All of us, together, might be able to take a little of the weight off of the world, at a time when it needs it most.

Love you all.

Every once in a while...

Every once in a while, I sit and edit my wedding photographs. And it hits me.

These are people that chose me. Me. To photograph one of the single most important days in their entire lives. To create photographs that not just them, but their children, their grandchildren, and so on… Will always look back at and cherish. In enough time, these are likely some of the only professional photographs future generations have of these people.

And I am the one with the paintbrush. The one that captures and creates the image that is who them and all their future generations always look at.

And they pay me for this.

A very long but very important story about Adderall.

Let me write a story about Ritalin/Adderall. This is all my personal experience and opinions.

I have always been a pretty crazy kid. I just have a lot of energy and love doing things, talking to people, exploring, seeing what I can, etc. I wake up every day with an energy, an intensity, that I just can’t wait to see and do more. 

That all sounds good but, when you’re a kid, they’re really trying to calm you down. That’s fair - You’re in a classroom setting most times and kids can’t be running around, not listening to the rules. But I think I was a pretty normal, rambunctious kid with a lot of energy. I was smart so I was inquisitive and many times, that came off like me questioning the rules and being insubordinate. Finally, this created some issues in the school and my parents took me to a doctor who prescribed me Ritalin. 

Let me say that again. In 5th grade, I was given amphetamines to help me sit still and pay attention.

I didn’t have a clue what I was taking. And I don’t want any of this to come off like my parents were bad parents. They were in a bad spot - Knowing they had a rebellious kid and wanting me to just sit there and get through school. At the time also, ADHD medication was somewhat new and people really thought it was the be all end all drug for solving these situations. 

And it did work. I sat there and I did what I was supposed to do. I don’t remember many of these times - In fact, I don’t remember a lot of my childhood - But this was probably just one of the contributing factors with it. 

Remember though, I was really, really young. And my brain was still developing, as it was also trying to adjust to putting amphetamines into it’s normal biology. The amphetamines took over everything though - Emotions, joys, worries, etc. It just made me a lump. A kid that was on drugs so I was too dumb to ask questions or think outside of the box. 

As I grew, I went through other ADHD medications, culminating in me taking Adderall as the last drug I took. I started on Adderall when I was in high school, still not really knowing that anything was wrong with it. After all, it was prescribed. By a doctor. And I had other friends who took it also… So there’s no way it could be that bad. 

Fast forward into college. Still taking Adderall. And it still worked. I would sit there in classrooms and stare at a desk, my mind numb from the dopamine it fueled me with. If I was tired, take an Adderall. If I couldn’t muster up motivation, take an Adderall. If I was depressed, take an Adderall. Need to read 30 pages of a book? Better take an Adderall to care enough to do so. I had formed this whole identity of rewards with it. Now, I couldn’t imagine living without it because everything was so boring if you didn’t take it. Who really would want to sit there in a library and study without these drugs? Who really could read for 12 hours, sleep for 4 and then take a test the very next morning?

I couldn’t tell you how many days were wasted because of these drugs. How many days and nights my soul just died, begging me to find something that naturally stimulated me but always being quieted by this pill. If there was anything I wasn’t excited about, I just assumed it was because I needed to take the pill to care about it. 

But then, one very important relationship happened. One that would end up changing my entire life and impacting deeply the person I am today. I met Stewart Yancik.

I was bouncing around college at that time, still a rebellious and crazy kid. I had no direction other than the basic plans that I’d get a business degree and move back to St. Louis to get a career, buy a house, build a white picket fence and weigh myself down until I wasn’t able to move again. I was in a relationship at this time and with a girl I loved very, very deeply. But I was a mess and she was a bit of a mess but for no other reason than being young, college kids at their first attempt at freedom. The Adderall was still a constant addiction in my life but now I was drinking and partying with it so less sleep. More foggy. But, when I woke up hungover, I always knew I could take that pill to feel okay. But there were other issues I was too dumb to notice. In between taking this pill and normal life was quite a disconnect. I was rebellious but my emotions were also very unpredictable. I was scared but not able to communicate it. I had a LOT of ego but no self awareness to even see it. It negatively impacted all the relationships around me but, worst of all, it negatively affected the relationship I cared about the most.

When I met Stu, on a treadmill in a college gym, he had seen I was watching poker on TV and asked if I played. He told me he did too and we became friends right off the bat. This is when online poker was at the height of it’s popularity so we made a plan to get together and play these long tournaments together. Many, many days were filled with 10-14 hour poker days playing these long tournaments. 

Since the poker tournaments were very monotonous, I definitely had to take Adderall to get through them. Stu watched me do this a few times before he asked about them and I told him it’s something I had done since I was a kid. He asked if I ever noticed how it made me different and I scoffed and laughed it off, being far too scared to even think who I was outside of this identity. 

But, as we continued to play, Stu kept calling me out on it. I love how blunt and honest he was and he would routinely say how dumb he could tell it made me. 

DUMB! How could I be dumb? Look - I am focused and sitting still. I read books all day long (even though I couldn’t really remember what I was reading).

‘It’s making you really dumb’ he would routinely say. ‘You have to quit that shit if you want to keep hanging out.’ 

And then he said the thing that woke me up immediately. The one phrase that made me quit, right then and there. He said ‘Do you know what we all call Adderall? The killer of creativity.’ 

I wasn’t even sure if I was able to. I had zero clue what it would be like to not have a pill to take to solve all of these ‘problems’. That would mean I would have to embrace my rebellion and energy and I had long been told that those things were negative traits. But what if I wasn’t able to sit still? What if I wasn’t able to sit in a library for 12 hours, staring at one page of a book? Then, I would surely be dumb.

Stu never relented. He called me out on what he saw, which was always the truth, until I agreed to take a break. It was pretty brutal - Withdrawals, sleepless nights, zero motivation at all. At the bottom of a pit of energy and no clue how to claw myself out. But Stu stayed close to me during this and kept reminding me that the goal was to actually be intelligent. To actually be able to think. Creatively.

I had never even though about creativity up to this point. Everything was binary, black and white. There was no world outside of the 12 inches in front of my face and I didn’t even want to think about it if there was. I had books to read. I had desks to sit in. I had rules to abide by.

But I kept weening off of this drug and I will forever be grateful for Stu for making me do so. Forever.

Because, the more I got off of it, the more I was able to think again. This was definitely an uncomfortable process in the beginning - I had years of squashed thoughts and emotions that were hidden under the surface of dopamine. They came up and now, I didn’t just have a black and white answer to them - They were full of color that I needed to understand. My creativity came back. I hadn’t felt it in so many years that I felt like a veil was being lifted off of my eyes. When my creativity came back, my inquisitiveness came back and that was surely met with some dismay but, now in a college setting, I was treated with maturity in this inquisitiveness. Instead of a teacher telling me to just sit still and not talk - Professors would have a real conversation with me and I was able to answer the questions I had. In fact, they welcomed it. They treated it as a sign of intelligence and fostered it as it continued to grow. They didn’t see it as a danger but as the foundation for critical thinking. 

And suddenly, for the first time ever, I didn’t feel bad for being the person I naturally was. I knew that I was never trying to hurt, annoy or pick on anyone with my questions - They were just genuine questions that arose as I was listening to them talk. And I was just trying to understand more.

Then, everything started to shift. I realized I didn’t really want to be in business at all. I had no desire to sit in an office, crunch numbers and talk around a water cooler. With my rejuvenated creativity, I became intrigued to learn so much more than ever before about more topics. I wanted to understand people better. I wanted to understand communication better. For the first time in my life, I truly wanted to learn about everything - But only the things that truly excited me.

It was during this time that I was told a quote I still live by and tell people today. I met an old man in the basement of a bar called the Crossroads in St. Louis. I told him that I wasn’t really able to pinpoint what I wanted my major to be because I wanted to learn everything. But I kept saying ‘I know you’re supposed to decide. But I don’t know what to do.’ 

And he told me ‘Son. Go to school for the education. Not for the piece of paper.’

Boom. That’s what I truly wanted to do. I wanted to learn about sociology and psychology. But I also wanted to combine that with a better understanding of communication to know how to implement that knowledge. I also knew that I would really struggle in a corporate or office setting because of my curiosity so I started to think about entrepreneurship. So I studied business again but from this new perspective. 

I still struggled with sitting through classrooms all day and studying in the library. But thankfully, my inquisitive personality opened up relationships with almost all of my professors. The more we talked, the better I was able to understand and the better I did in their classes. But it also gave me a HUGE advantage over the rest of the class because, as I learned how to develop these relationships, I grew real connections with my professors. We looked forward to sitting and debating after the class about things we differed on. I would stop by their office when a question popped in my mind and we would have a real dialogue. These conversations were very creative because they were inquisitive so I got to really understand what they were teaching from a very real and applicable viewpoint. 

This is how I learned conversation. Especially how to have balanced conversations with people that were smarter than me. Older than me. Knew more than me. This is when I learned how insanely valuable it is to be able to learn from people that know more than you because they WILL TELL YOU. They will tell you everything they know, if you just ask and genuinely listen. You can get 10 books of knowledge in one long conversation and it was actually digestible because it was personal.

Everything changed during these times and they would have never in a million years been possible if I hadn’t found my creativity again by getting clean off of Adderall. I would’ve kept punching the clocks. Leaving the stones unturned. Waiting in line for whatever was left for me at the end. I would have taken my paychecks. Bought what I could with them. Followed the rules. Paid my taxes. 

And never ever be disruptive enough to think I might be able to change the world.

See, when I was on Adderall, I wasn’t a writer. I wasn’t a photographer. I wasn’t a dreamer. It wasn’t possible. There was monotonous tasks to do and more dusting and vacuuming that had to take place.

But when my creativity came back, the world was drenched in color again. I was truly alive again. I wanted to rebel against my own rules I had set for myself in this conformity and was destined to see everything I could. It was only in that curiosity that I started taking pictures. And only by taking pictures did I find a way to make a difference in peoples lives. And, by making that difference, I was shown the true power of purpose and the fire it burns within you. 

I have never done any drugs in my entire life except for Adderall, weed and mushrooms. Because of my experience with Adderall, I am utterly terrified of things that make you ‘dumb’. I have no desire to try these things (Even though I don’t judge those that are curious enough to). I only have a desire to do things that open my eyes up even more. That cause my soul to burn brighter. And my heart to bleed more for the world around me.

From this perspective alone, so many of my dreams have come true. I don’t go for dopamine anymore - I got for serotonin. And I don’t go for any cheap highs. I go for the ones that are the most difficult to find. The most challenging to get. 

Now I get purpose from giving my heart to the world. And using the talents I found in my creativity, in my rebellion, to leave the world better for the love I give it. 

And if I didn’t rebel, I would’ve never believed that was possible to do.

Looking back at where this last chapter really began. Part one.

Part 1.

I started this last chapter with absolutely nothing. About 8 years ago, I was determined to try to be an agent in Los Angeles. I was obsessed with the show Entourage and was dedicated to trying to be an Ari Gold (though a nicer one, maybe).

I saved up $900 while waiting tables in St. Louis, where I am from, and figured that was enough to make it to California and go after this dream. However, I made a long stop in Fort Collins to see a friend and wasted away most of the money, only having $300 left after my time there.

I told my friend there that I would have to go home - $300 was not enough to make it to California - And I’ll never forget, he asked me to come sit on the roof with him. We sat on the roof and smoked a joint and he said ‘Adam, you’ve already gone home and restarted. You will always know you can do that. But, if you go West from here, that is the point of no return. Go west.’

So I did. I remember being in Reno, Nevada and writing down that I had $37 left to my name. I was at the end of the rope with no job and no one to give me any money. So, I made a post on Facebook about my situation and had a friend tell me his brother had a farm I could work on. I went there for a month and did hard labor to save up $300 so I could keep going. I remember I was sleeping on a futon when he threw the money on me. I woke up and realized that was enough and started packing immediately.

I was still in Northern California with this $300 and had quite a bit of driving to do. I remember camping at Big Sur during these times. I could never afford the $50 campsites there so I would just hang out in the parking lot by the Big Sur River Inn and talk to locals to try to figure out where I could sleep. One local reached into a mason jar and handed me a huge handful of weed, with a big smile on his face. Another local heard the trip I was on and offered to buy me a beer.

To this day, that was still one of the best beers I had ever had. I didn’t even have enough money for food with the beer but I didn’t care.

This was one of the first experiences I had that really taught me true joy.

I would allow myself $5 a day during these times. That was only $5 I was allowed to spend on everything - Food, water, place to sleep, etc. I would scrap together whatever food I could (usually just more ramen packets) but, in an attempt to keep my morale up, I would give myself an indulgence. The Big Sur River Inn had a market and, every day, I would let myself buy a $1 can of Dr. Pepper for my treat for the day.

I would get that can of soda and sit in the river each day. You could have told me that can was worth a million dollars and I would have believed you. I looked forward to it every single day.

I also noticed a very small island out in the river in Big Sur that was in between two peoples properties. I figured no one owned this island so, EVERY NIGHT (when it got dark so no one could see me), I would pick up my tent, blankets and water bottle and I would trudge through deep water to get to the island. I would pitch my tent, go to sleep and wake up at sunrise to break it back down so no one ever saw me.

I left Big Sur and headed south and finally, I made it to Los Angeles with $27 left. No job. No opportunity. I had one pair of nice pants and one button up shirt (both that were badly wrinkled at this point) that I would have to use to go out and get a job as quickly as I could.

Thankfully, my sister lived in Los Angeles and offered me a couch to crash on for a short time. I will never forget getting to her place, where she cooked me a chicken quesadilla, which was the first meat I had eaten in over a month.

This is where it all started.

Owing a wrench.

Being able to take pictures is like knowing how to use a wrench. 

I don’t care if you have a wrench. Or know how to use one. Everyone does. 

I care about what you can build with it. 

A reflection from a personal situation I had in Jamaica.

A man is in Jamaica and runs into a grocery store. While waiting in line, there is a grandma up ahead, checking out with all the staples. Eggs. Bread. Milk. When the cashier tells her how much the total is, she tells him she can’t afford it and he shows her what she has to put back. 

The man immediately notices it and says ‘I’ll pay for all of that.’

The grandma stops and walks all the way to back of the line to thank him, with tears in her eyes. 

‘How can I repay you?’ She asks the man. 

‘Teach me out how to be happy.’ Is all I ask. 

‘I just did.’

These mountains still have stories to tell me.

I just laid in a stream bed for an hour and basked in the sunshine. I went to see some rams I saw while driving and maybe get a picture. But once I was there, the sun graced me and I felt very at home so I just laid down and gave my body the rest it deserves. 

It’s a bit strange to me when I stop to think about it all.

Because, when I lay down and dream, my body tells me it’s always been here. Maybe my physical body left but this is the place where my body found home and it remembered it well. Those beaches I used to sleep on. The caves I’d find for an afternoon nap. These parks. When no one ever knew where I was or where I was going - not even myself. 

This is my actual home. 

That’s why my heart cries out to me when I am in my home in Coeur d’ Alene, telling me it’s not time to rest there just yet.

These mountains still have stories to tell me. And there’s still so much time to use that inspiration to light the whole world on fire. 

A conversation I had with a stranger this morning.

This morning, I was talking to the front desk about Anthony Bourdain and when he went to Ensenada. She told me she had never heard of him so I told him to check him out.

A guest at the hotel overheard me saying that and asked ‘Did you see his documentary? It’s so depressing. Don’t watch it - Wait until it comes out to see it at home if you have to.’

And I thought for a second… People don’t have a single clue what it actually means to have a personality like Bourdain. Speaking from a personal observation, as someone who thinks he is a very similar traveler to him.

It’s a reminder that most people have no idea the amount of chaos that is mixed around and inside of a mind like that. The loneliness, the poor decisions, the late nights and heartbreaks. The doubts. The fears and questions. The mistakes and regrets often dwelled over.

The search. The relentless, endless, merciless search for something. Anything. To fill that hole and quiet those doubts and regrets. That search goes all over the world, in every possible place that you think you might be able to find it. But you never actually find it because you learn later - The thing you were searching for could have only come from within you. And maybe from a strong relationship that keeps you tethered to the real world.

So you numb yourself to the realities of the search and enjoy a life of pure adventure along the way.

That journey surely is lonely and strange.

Who hurt these girls?

Who hurt these girls?

The ones that wear all black. The ones that don’t look at you when you talk. The ones that will never let you see them without makeup. That hide their smile from the world.

The ones that don’t look up at the light when it shines.

Who hurt these girls? And told them they were supposed to stand in the shadows? That they weren’t as beautiful as they are.

Who shattered their thin veil of trust? The innocence we all deserve to have.

Whoever hurt them should know the boundless love they selfishly stole from their hearts. And from the men who would have forever been grateful to receive it.

You should know how much love you took out of the world with your insecurity.

And that it has truly made the world a darker place.

A realization that sparked this new chapter in my life.

A few months ago, I was climbing a mountain and relishing in the beauty around me as I did.

It was overwhelming how alive I felt in that moment. I wanted to capture it. I wanted to bottle it. I wanted some way to be able to properly articulate the magic I was feeling. But I knew that there was nothing that could do it justice. No photograph. Not even words. You had to be there with me to understand it.

I sat there and thought about this for a little while.

And I realized that, the people that are out there really living grand adventures do not do it to show anybody what they’re doing. They know that they can’t. They can’t bottle of the grandeur of what they’re experiencing. They don’t climb that mountain to take a picture and post it. They probably don’t even have a camera or phone on them while they do.

They climb the mountains and live that adventure for them.

For the light it stokes in their soul, that breeds contentment in their life.

They don’t have any desire to do anything to take away from the present grandeur they are immersed in during that experience. You will likely never know about them or what they do.

And they could care less.

I can't stop thinking about my poker dealer yesterday.

This morning, I sat down to my World Series poker table and said hello to my dealer, DJ. Like most of the dealers there, she was not from America and was very quiet spoken. I normally try to illuminate a little laugh from them by getting to know them and asking about their country and their life outside of this.

But DJ was a little different.

There was absolutely no life behind her eyes. There was no spark. There was nothing left.

Her flame has long been extinguished by the realities and shattered expectations of the world. Her gaze is steel and nothing at all except pale blue colors. Chinese. Overworked. Under-appreciated. Undervalued. Here to work, not here to live. 

But here’s the thing - She is stop-you-in-your-tracks, shut the hell up, beyond belief GORGEOUS. It’s very easy to tell that, behind the brutally tired eyes and the black tattered hair, there is a girl in there that could have maybe been a supermodel, laying in the warmth and the colors, being catered to if she wanted to. Maybe married to the rich, drinking mimosas in bed on Saturday mornings, not a care in the world.

You can see it in her eyes, what she would look like with a smile. If that spark was still there. If there was still something to see.

And I can’t stop looking at her and thinking about that. I’m not even trying to.

My brain keep auto-piloting back to her, making eye contact with her. To just try and lock a gaze, for just one single second in time, to maybe give her a glimmer of life. To see one single spark that might be left behind the mountains of dust thats already settled. To light it on fire and watch it burn. 

I want to see what she looks like all dressed up, in the way she feels best.

Her hair done and her in a red dress, full of possibility and wonder.

I want to hear what her life is like at home, what her favorite color is, what she dreams about at night.

I want to see her laugh across a dinner, drinking champagne and letting reality melt away through each moment.

But she never makes eye contact.

There’s nothing there. There’s nothing left.

Her stare goes behind all of us at the table, into the walls and below the carpets. It goes nowhere because there is nothing there anymore.

(Picture is not DJ by the way!)

Paying attention to time.

One of the positives about my life and how I spend it now, after social media, is that I am aware of my time. At least now, I am aware of the time I waste. The time I am not doing what I could be doing. I think that’s always a persistent quality with a lot of people but now, if I can first be aware of it, I can be uncomfortable enough to do something about it. 

When I was on social media all the time, whenever I would have that uncomfortable feeling, I would pull out the dopamine and squash that feeling of discontent.  And then, I would waste insane amounts of time, hours a day, staring at things I would never remember. 

But now, I am at least vividly aware of the time that is wasted. And vividly aware of what I could have done about it.

Awareness is always the first step so hopefully, with that awareness, a more clarified productivity moves forward.

The other side of this coin also is that, now that I’m not wasting hours everyday staring at a phone, I actually do have an insane amount of free time available to me. So I can spend a portion of that on myself - Reading books in bed, laying in a bathtub and dreaming, climbing mountains and getting sunburnt, etc. - And still have enough time left over to finish what I need to.